You are my best friend, Harry
by Tempted Sacrifice
Summary: "I'm your best friend Harry, I should know." It hurt, to know that she would never be more than a friend to him.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, the credit goes to J.K Rowling.

"**You are my best friend, Harry."**

"I... I don't love you like _that_ Ronald." Hermione looked down, not daring to look her best friend in the eye as she delivered the words. "I only love you as a brother."

Silence.

"You love him, don't you?" He asked, and Hermione looked up in surprise, for she could not detect any of the resentment she had expected, nor was there any flush of anger blooming on his cheeks and ears. "I have seen the way you look at him, when you think no one else sees. But Hermione..." Now it was he who looked away, and she sorrowfully noted the hurt he could not hide and the misty eyes. "I have always been watching you from the sides. I know."

She could not form any words, and for the first time in her entire life, Hermione Granger was left speechless. She raised her arm, taking a grip of his shirt, bunching it under her fingers as she let out a sob, looking at him tearfully.

"I am so, so sorry; Merlin, I wish you were the one I loved. That you were the one I wished to marry." She swallowed, holding her breathe before letting it out with a gasp. "But... We cannot choose who we fall in love with."

Taking her other hand she dragged it through her hair roughly, a few strands sticking to her fingers as the warmness of her tears slid down her cheeks. She felt Ron's rough hand cover her own and she felt so selfish, standing there; crying for unrequited love when he was going through the same _thing because of her._

"Hermione. Hermione, look at me. I don't blame you. At first, when I noticed the way you looked at him, I was angry, so angry Hermione, but I've had time to process that you love someone else. Please, just don't cry."

Before she could utter a sound, his arms encircled her, embraced her in his warmth. "He'd be a fool not to love you back."

She sniffled as a small chuckle escaped her lips, and she leaned her head against his chest, the scratchy fabric of his sweater bringing her comfort as she wondered – not for the first time – if _he_ could possibly love her back.

"I've seen the way you look at her."

Her bushy hair hid her face from view, and that was the first time she was ever grateful for the massiveness that was her hair. For without it, he could've seen the tears that were shining in her eyes and the delicate tremble of her lips. When he did not answer, she dared a glance at him, her heart breaking at the red tint that covered his cheeks.

So he _did_ love her.

"I- I don't know what you are talking about." Harry mumbled, his hand fumbling to right his glasses and passing through his messy hair, avoiding to even look her way. She chuckled; but not from amusement.

"I'm your best friend Harry, I should know." It hurt, to know that she would never be more than a friend to him. She stood up, having calmed herself enough to be able to look at him without feeling the prickle of tears, but she knew that if she stayed for too long, she would break down crying.

She took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. Because even though she loved him on a deeper level than he loved her, she would be there for her; she was his best friend after all.

"How does it feel, to see Ron with Lavender?" He asked, promptly avoiding her earlier statement. And Hermione, she looked down, still feeling bad for hurting Ron like she did, even though it was months ago. She was happy when she'd heard he had gotten together with Lavender Brown, a fellow classmate and roommate. That meant he was moving on.

"It's not the same." Slowly bringing her hand back to her side, she watched the distance between their fingers, wishing to close the distance again. "I don't love him. Not like that."

"I thought you loved him. The way you two interact." Harry mumbled, looking at her with a frown on his face, his lips turned downwards. He bent down slightly to look her in the eyes and she averted her gaze, not baring to look at the intensity of his eyes.

"No. I never loved him." _It was always you_.

Hermione looked down again, wishing that she didn't love him; that she could love the boy who'd confessed his love all those months ago.

"But..." He started, but stopped and she looked up at him, despite everything feeling a stirring of hope bloom in her chest. "Never mind, it was nothing."

_Oh, Harry._

"What is it about her that you love?" She shouldn't have asked, but she wanted, no _needed_ to know.

He blushed more brightly this time, covering his face with his hand as he looked at the rain pelting against the window, and she too was caught looking the glass, watching their reflections bounce off it.

"I don't know." Harry finally mumbled, fisting his hand as he raised it against the stone-wall, knocking it in frustration with his knuckle. "It just... Happened. One day she was Ron's little sister, the next a beautiful and smart woman that I knew I wanted to be mine. I think it was sometime last year, when we fought in the Department of Ministry. Her strong-willed spirit, determination and most of all, her compassion. It all drew me to her, and I have not been able to stop thinking about her ever since.

"Do you know what I mean?" He asked sheepishly, still blushing slightly.

She couldn't answer, her throat choked with emotion as she tried to still the flood of tears that came to her eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I know exactly what you are talking about." She said thickly, bringing her hand to her face. "But he will never love me back."

The comfort of his arms was home to her, but still her heart could not help breaking, knowing that she could not stay like this with him forever. She clung to him, her own arms around his waist as she inhaled his scent, the stubble on his chin tickling her forehead.

"Whoever you love would be a fool not to love you back." Harry whispered soothingly, echoing the words Ron had said to her.

Hermione muffled her sobs by pressing herself even closer to him, hot tears soaking the front of Harry's sweater as she cried, wishing that she could work up the courage to tell him.

"No, he will never love me. He has already found the girl of his dreams."

_Harry, why can't you realize that it is _you_ that I love?_


End file.
